The Birthday
by brookeisabaddie
Summary: Modern Day AU. Bellamy makes Clarke wait until her 18th Birthday before they do "it." and it's absolutely driving her crazy. With her birthday fast approaching, Clarke tries to plan the perfect night and handle not only her raging hormones but the return of her mother and Bellamy's jerk of a father. O.C. Stella acts as Clarke's irresponsible guardian and mentor. Review! Review!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"It's not like I'm pining away for sex or anything." Clarke explained in a hushed voice while she moved around the kitchen with her _aunt. _Okay, there are a few things about Aunt Stella that one must know before she speaks. Her name is Stella Isabella Owens and she absolutely hates her parents for naming her that. And, Stella isn't her biological aunt. Stella was the only person Clarke agreed to "watch" her while Abby Griffin worked in Haiti. Why? Because they could have open conversations about her sex-life over McMuffins and Starbucks Frappes. Plus, when it came to semi-parenting Stella had always been accountable unlike Abby Griffin. "It's just ridiculous."

"What did you expect?" Stella snorted, "You're dating a law student."

"He doesn't even want to be a lawyer…" Clarke trailed off, thinking about her previous conversation with her boyfriend; Bellamy Blake. "He's just doing it because his dad wants him to." That situation was completely fucked up in the first place because Bellamy's "dad" only got involved once he got accepted into College of Charleston. His father was an alumni and supported the school so he pulled a few strings to get his "son" into the pre-law program. Bellamy's plan was to become a history teacher and write books on the cultures of the world… Clarke didn't understand why it was so easy to let go of a dream like that but Bellamy was a big boy and could make his own choices.

Speaking of choices, Bellamy had made the strict choice not to consummate their relationship until her 18th birthday because of the law. "Marcus is a douche bag." Stella said, "I would know."

"Yes, please remind me how you had a fling with the Attorney General again because it's not enough when we're having a family dinner or something." She said sarcastically, "You're going to burn that pretty brown hair if you don't stop lighting your cigarettes over the stove." Abby would flip if she knew about Stella's bad habit of smoking in the house.

"I hear footsteps." Stella explained, "I don't know Clarke you could always try masturbation!" She said as loud as she could before settling down in her seat. She giggled at Clarke's bright red face when Bellamy entered the kitchen. "Hey stud muffin, got you a McMuffin." She greeted him with a smile before taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Six minutes." Bellamy mumbled as he took a seat by Clarke with a devilish smirk on his face. He always took the opportunity to inform Stella that she was taking six minutes off her life every cigarette she smoked.

"I'm an adult." Stella would always counter. "I do what I want. Speaking of adulthood…_Clarke_."

"Birthday plans." Clarke said, dropping the leftover pieces of her McMuffin on the paper before brushing her hands off. "Okay, I have the best idea since the Kardashians."

"Those are really big shoes to fill." Stella said skeptically, "Go on."

"Strip club. Real club. Another club and then birthday cake." Clarke said, "Then the next morning we're going to breakfast at Waffle House because I haven't been to Waffle House in god knows how long."

"Last Monday if I recall." Bellamy said, stuffing his face. Clarke rolled her eyes before running a hand through his hair to straighten out his bed head. "You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?" She mused, running her fingers through his hair again with an arched eyebrow. She usually didn't know she was doing the _thing. _Definition: Thing: Looking at him like he's the best thing in the entire world. She would take in his brown skin and perfect jawline, stare at those freckles on his face and get lost in his pretty eyes until he called her out on it or brought her back to reality.

"The thing you do when you just stare at me." He said, "I know I'm good-looking, charming and amazing in every single way but seriously…take a picture." He leaned down at kissed her pouty lips. She desperately wanted to deepen it but Stella cleared her throat.

"Still single over here." She nearly sung.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "That's a personal choice. I can name seven guys that have asked you out in the last three months that you've rejected."

"They weren't my type."

"Because they wanted to commit?" Clarke asked. "Anyway…what are your views on the birthday plan?"

"School?"

Clarke snorted, "Who goes to school on their birthday?"

"Right." Stella said, "I forgot that high school attendance is unimportant. You right your paper on U.S. Government or no?"

"Didn't get to it yet." Clarke said, "I got accepted into the pre-med program at John Hopkins." Her tone was nonchalant because she didn't want to hype it up. She thought it was the perfect time to slip it in before Stella had to switch to "tough" guardian and get on her about her academics. If anything, Abby Griffin was extremely involved in Clarke's grades.

"When?" Bellamy asked, his hand extended to her lower back. "That's really good."

Stella smiled proudly, "Look I'm not a complete screw up!" Clarke could really see her features when she smiled. Her full lips and high cheek bones made her this attractive woman that everyone wanted to be with. "And as for your birthday plan…I'll think on it. Seeing as your birthday is on a Wednesday, I really don't think the club is going to be pumping and Abby said something about coming home."

Clarke started to choke on Peppermint Mocha Frappuccino. "My mom's coming home." She groaned. In her mind, she knew this wasn't the appropriate response to the news. She should be estatic… she hadn't seen Abby in seven months. Abby just didn't _know _a lot of things. She didn't know Clarke lost her virginity three months before Clarke started dating Bellamy… yeah, Abby didn't know about Bellamy either and Bellamy and Clarke had been dating for a year. Even when Abby was in town last time, Clarke didn't say anything. She would never approve. Bellamy was 22. Clarke was 17. Abby would have something to say about the age difference. She always had something to _say. _

Bellamy always got uncomfortable when Abby was mentioned as if he didn't know what to say. "What are your plans for the day?" He changed the subject even if Abby coming home was an important conversation that Stella and Clarke needed to have…they let him do it.

"Lingerie shopping." Stella said, "Oh did I say that out loud? I meant birthday present shopping."

Bellamy swallowed hard and snuck a glance over to Clarke. Clarke never helped the situation, she winked at him. "Fun."

"Always fun." Stella leaned on the counter, "Now tell me, Bells… what are your preferences? I know what Clarke likes but _you…_" Stella turned around because she didn't want him to see her laughing so hard at his facial expression. Clarke put her hand on his knee, causing him to look over at her.

"…Clarke, you're a tease." He whispered lowly, "Seriously."

"I'm not saying anything." Clarke told him with a smile before her hand started easing up his leg. "Are you excited…" She let her words linger a little before completing her sentence, "About my birthday party?" He placed a hand over her hand and exhaled loudly.

"More excited about your birthday in general." He kissed her jaw before standing up from the table. "I have to meet Marcus at 11 for brunch—whatever the hell that is." He headed towards her bedroom so he could get dressed. Clarke wondered if she would have to take all of Bellamy's clothes out of her closet that he kept there when he stayed the night when Abby came home.

"Nothing compared to the fine meal you just ate!" Stella said, finally turning around and silently laughing with Clarke. "Are you excited?" She mocked Clarke, "Where the hell did that come from?" Stella's face was lined with this approval and humor of the entire situation. "I should be scolding you for being a temptress…but I can't. I remember 17 unlike your mother, I made 17 my bitch. But 18… damn."

Clarke cleaned up her and Bellamy's mess before heading into her room. Clarke's room was identical to the master bedroom except for the marble countertops…the master bedroom didn't have marble countertops in the bathroom. Abby's career brought in a lot of money—even if Abby was currently volunteering with her boyfriend Samuel in Haiti—they had a lot of money. Clarke heard the shower running and thought momentarily about climbing in with him.

She'd never done that before.

Besides some heavy touching they'd never done anything because Bellamy had this _self-control _that she couldn't understand. He could be completely reckless with everything in his life but her. He was never reckless with her. She didn't know if that annoyed her more than it made her smile…

But her constant suffering over the last year while she dated him was about to come to an end. Her 18th birthday was fast approaching and she had more plans that a few shitty night clubs and possible strippers. She was going to have sex with Bellamy Blake.

A lot.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Clarke was hunched over her school books during her free time away from Bellamy and Stella's constant comedy routine. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing one of Bellamy's university hoodies. It smelt like him…that mixture of cologne and just _Bellamy_. She kept breathing it in as if his scent was going to help her form a thesis about what she was reading. The only thing she kept thinking about was, "History repeats itself…" How lame is that? She saw that all over Twitter and those stupid Facebook pictures that she continued to share on her wall because she was a teenage girl.

Her phone started to ring its customized ringtone for Stella. "Hola chica." Stella greeted her, "Working on that paper?"

"Yeah." She said, "I'm intelligent, I should be able to form a thesis on the political system and the threats of nuclear war."

Stella sighed, "You know you have a boyfriend, right…he's sort of a history nerd. He's handsome, likes to come over late at night. He brings you food when you're hungry and guess what? He also knows a little something-something about politics."

Clarke groaned, "I've never asked for his help on something academic before."

"Why? Kid's got brains."

"Because sometimes I can be egotistical about how smart I am." Clarke said, "How do I even ask him?"

"Baby, sweetheart, lover of mine, please come over and help me daddy?" Stella suggested with a giggle. "Figure it out, kid, I've got to get back to my date. He's a handsy mother-fucker but apparently he's a doctor."

Clarke giggled and said, "I love you Stella Bella."

"I love you too."

The call ended and Clarke hit a three number combination for her speed dial and called Bellamy. She sung his ringback tone, that of which he hadn't changed since he was in high school, until he answered. "Baby…" She said instead of 'hello' or her typical 'hey'.

"Hmm?" She glanced over at the clock. It was 11:24 on a Saturday night and he was already sleeping? Clarke's thoughts drifted to Stella for a quick moment because who goes out on a date this late at night? She shook her head and listened to him breathe for a moment or two. "You're such a creep." He laughed, finally starting to wake up.

"I could be." She said, "Or I could just love you." She dropped the pencil in her hand after doodling a few stars in the margins of her paper. "Can you come over?"

"Stella home?"

"Nope." She let the 'p' in nope pop off her lips. "I know you have that rule about coming over when Stella isn't here…but I promise I'm not wearing anything remotely sexy. I don't look sexy and I'm not trying to get sexy with you. I need your help."

"Excuse me while I relish in the moment of you asking me for help." He said smugly, "What do you need help with, princess?"

Clarke felt uncomfortable, "I have this paper for my social studies class and I-"

"This keeps getting better and better." He said, "You hungry?"

"When am I not hungry?" She asked, "You can add this to your point box."

Point box—the box in which Clarke added all of his sex points for when they could actually have sex. "I plan on it, baby. Now what are you in the mood for?" _You. You. You. _

She hesitated before saying, "Taco Bell. You know what I like."

"I should be there in fifteen. Traffic shouldn't be horrible." He commented, "I love you."

"I love you more."

"That's not fair."

"But it is." She laughed before hanging up and looking at her reflection in the mirror. "Seriously need to get a little sexy."

XXX

After dabbing perfume on her neck and running her powder brush across her features she deemed herself sexy, but not too sexy. Bellamy, on the other hand, made her feel completely sexy when he swooped in her with her chicken quesadilla order and his slight sigh. "Baby you said you weren't sexy… and you're wearing my hoodie and you smell great." He kissed her lips—one, two, three, four times. She wanted to keep kissing him like they did when they got carried away. "Paper?"

She grabbed his hand and brought him towards her bedroom, "You know…one week until the big day." Clarke turned around and pressed herself against him. "We don't really talk about it."

"Clarke…we always talk about it." He rolled his eyes, "I want you so fucking bad, Clarke but this is the right thing to do. We aren't breaking any laws…and one year of being in a relationship like this has been so good. I'm not rushing into it or trying to cheat at the finish line."

"How bad do you want me?"

"Insufferable." He claimed, "Come on Einstein let's get to this paper before you send me over the edge."

"I can send _you _over the edge." She smirked, "How? Tell me…"

Bellamy raised an eyebrow and leaned into her, "This morning…babe. That almost sent me over the edge and when that timer is up and you turn 18… we're really going to have fun." His words sent a shiver down her back. Damn him. "Of course, this morning was short-lived because of brunch with Marcus."

Clarke and he communicated through text-message about the event but they hadn't talked about it. "I don't understand why you feel so compelled to do what he says."

"The same reason you applied to John Hopkins." Bellamy replied, "He's paying for school. He's put Octavia and me in a nice apartment in Charleston. He's paying for her private school right now. He's doing a lot more than he used to."

Clarke got in her bed, motioning for him to bring the laptop over to her. He followed, getting comfortable underneath her plush and expensive covers. She was aware of how late it was and how this was going to work. They were going to snuggle and whisper sweet words to each other and then conversation would get deep and it wouldn't be about history or social studies. "He's a jerk." She told him, "He doesn't even want to meet me because he thinks I'll be out of your life in three months."

"I shouldn't have told you about that." He said, "Marcus Kane is my father. I'm his only son. He's a chauvinist. He thinks men are everything, women are nothing and he's the Attorney General of Charleston. Now that his wife is dead… he's going to accept his seamstress' kids. Octavia deserves this good life he can give her…and if that comes at a price…it comes at a price."

"How long are you going to be miserable?"

"I can't be miserable if I have you." He said, his face burying into her neck. "You aren't going to write this paper tonight are you?"

She reached in her back of food and started eating, "Not at all. You going to let me touch your abs?"

"Probably." He chuckled into her skin, "I think Stella's humor is rubbing off on you."

Clarke moved her head to kiss his lips, finally deepening it to the point that she wanted. She wanted to pull off the hoodie and take him down. She could feel him against her, the rock hardness of his desire. It was the only thing that kept her going because of the limitations she was under. Knowing that he wanted to fuck her made her feel better. They moved into each other at a quick pace, her hands reaching up his shirt and his lips creeping down her neck. She moaned and he pulled away. "You can't make that sound."

Clarke threw herself back into her pillows, "You're seriously the only guy who doesn't want to sleep with me."

"I want to sleep with you." He said for the thousandth time. "I swear to god I want to have so much sex with you to make up this last year of nothing but seriously… seriously, we can't."

"I don't get it." Clarke said, "You will give me your beer…but you won't fool around with me. It's so unfair. Baby, it's so unfair." She was on the verge of tears because sometimes his personal choice killed her.

He groaned, "Clarke… when people look at you and me they don't get it. We're five years apart and you're in high school. You're beautiful…sexy and I want to be able to say that because you're beautiful and sexy that I didn't take advantage of your _young mind _and I waited. I waited and I did you the way a princess should be done."

"It doesn't matter what people think."

"It matters what I think about myself." He said, "You're my best friend… I love you and I'm not going to fuck this up."

"Until next week when I turn 18 and you give me the night of my dreams. Then, it's game on."

"Game on for sure." He confirmed, "Because you'll be an adult and the law says it's not statutory rape if you're 18."


	3. Chapter 3

**Review so I know if this is worth my time to continue! Thank you! ~ Brooke. **

Chapter 3:

Stella looked at Clarke, Clarke looked at Stella. "What's in the bag?" Clarke asked her, bringing the coffee mug to her lips. Stella shoved the pink bag behind her and tried to act confused. Clarke didn't have time for the charade. She was desperate. The countdown to 18 was about to come to an end and Clarke needed something to distract her from her current mind state of bare chests and heavy kisses.

"What bag?" Stella asked slyly, "Four hours on the clock, Clarke… is he going to come over at midnight? Going to give it to you right? Hmm?"

Clarke cursed Stella, "I don't know. God, I hope so." She pointed to the bag and demanded to know. "Is that one of my birthday presents? Did you get me lingerie? Please, please say yes." Clarke was sitting up with a glass of white wine, swirling it around the glass. "What if he comes in and brings me flowers and taco bell?"

"What?" Stella asked, "That's your sex fantasy? You know…you never told me how you and Bellamy met. It's probably a big story and it'll pass the time."

"Okay, as you know we met at a college party."

"Drunk?"

"Fucking wasted."

Flashback:

_Nathan Miller's dad was a cop. That being said, Clarke and Nathan were really good friends. Good friends and for good reason. Her mother hated his dad. His dad hated her mother. They spent the entire night drinking from wine coolers and up until Nathan uttered the words that would change Clarke's entire life, she'd been having a typical Monday night. "Party at College of Charleston tonight." Miller said, "You're trying to get over Finn. I'm trying to get over Harper. Let's go to and find hot people."_

"_You mean, let's go to said party so you can find a hot person. I don't need anyone right now." She commented, "But you need a wingman and I've always been your wingman." Well… ever since they were in sixth grade when they became great friends. She smiled and they started to drive over to College of Charleston. She had a 2013 Mustang at that time and she was in a dark place. _

_Drinking and driving…_

_Underage drinking…_

_Crashing parties…_

_It was awful…but that's in retrospect. "Finn's an idiot, Clarke. Comes down for the summer and hooks up with you and then tells you about his girlfriend that lives here. You got to get over that eventually."_

"_I'm not dating until I'm out of college. Everyone is relationshiply immature."_

"_Relationshiply? That's not a word." Miller pointed out before she turned into the apartment complex Miller instructed her to go to. She sighed when he started talking about curfews and his dad's shift ending in four hours. "I want to have fun but not too much fun."_

"_I just want to get this over with and get drunk. Stella's the only one home." Clarke said, "Abby's gone again. Like always."_

"_We don't have to do this."_

"_I want to." She lied, "Honestly." Miller shrugged and they headed towards the apartment building number his friend had given him. "How'd you even know about this party, anyway? We're juniors in high school. Our college pull isn't that strong."_

"_Bellamy Blake…you know, the guy that took the year off of college to travel Rome or something. He's the Attorney General's son…or illegitimate child. Whatever, all I know is we had a couple beers together a few nights ago. He invited me to this party and I want to get drunk."_

_Clarke shrugged, "Name sounds familiar. Does he have a sister?"_

"_Octavia." Miller said, "She's a fox."_

"_No one says fox anymore." Clarke rolled her eyes. "I guess you could say Octavia and I are friends. We're sort of those friends that are only friends at school though… she hates our school."_

"_Rightfully. She's got some boyfriend at that public school down the road." Miller concluded his Octavia fact sheet after they entered the apartment with a, "What I did a background check?" The party was definitely going hard. There was so much alcohol Clarke was getting drunk off of fumes. _

_Okay, Clarke was a gorgeous person. When she walked into a room, she demanded attention. She got that attention from drunk assholes and people she needed to get away from. She looked over at Miller and released a sharp breath. Her head feeling as if it were going to explode the more and more she drank. She brought her own alcohol because she didn't trust anyone. She watched way too many crime shows to trust these people. She was an emotional rollercoaster ever since her mom left with three days' notice. She stood in the middle of a room full of people that she didn't know and she was about to make that phone call._

_The regrettable one where you call your ex-boyfriend and see how great his life is without you. Until, Miller tapped her shoulder. "Clarke…you look miserable." Only a good friend would actually notice how sad her eyes were. Her makeup was flawless, she was dressed for a night on the town (like always) and her hair looked great. Any guy would have been lucky to take her home. _

_Finn Collins would have been lucky to take her home tonight, dammit!_

"_I am miserable." She said, "Dammit, Nathan. What the hell is wrong with me? This is my scene. I'm that girl… a social butterfly and here I am being the worst party girl in the history of party girls."_

"_I could take you home."_

"_I drove…and you're drunk. I'm drunk. I'm going to call Stella." Clarke said, "Maybe…I don't know you think we should risk it?"_

"_Let's ask." Miller shrugged, grabbing a guy Clarke hadn't even noticed by the shoulder and pulling him in front of Clarke. "How drunk do we look?"_

_Clarke was definitely noticing him now. She attempted to blink away his immediate charm and hide the fact that she was attracted by his unruly hair and his brown eyes. She recognized the brown eyes. Weird, she never thought she'd be able to say that. "You're Octavia's brother."_

"_Most people call me Bellamy." He looked down at her. "I think you look extremely beautiful." _

"_Let's ask someone else who is less drunk then him?" Clarke put on her face—the face that she had been perfecting for years. It was made out of steel and let her disregard any and all emotions. It was the face she used when her mom left her with Stella. It was the face she used when Finn left her with that chaste kiss on the beach. It was the face she used when her dad died. "Nice meeting you."_

_He grabbed her arm, "What's your name?"_

"_Clarke." She said, "Clarke Griffin…don't look me up on Facebook. I have a strict no add policy for strangers." _

"_I'm not a stranger." He countered. "In fact, I would say I know you more than half the people is this room."_

"_Pre-law?" Clarke asked, "Got to be because Edward Austin is here and he has a strict pre-law social group… and Amanda Crane. Yeah, newsflash. You don't know one thing about me except my name… some of these people have known me since I was a child. You're wrong."_

"_I know you know Octavia." He continued, "So you go to school with her? And Miller over here…" Miller had disappeared—no, that jerk retreated back to his future one-night-stand. Clarke turned around and spotted him and frowned. Now what was she going to do? "Come on… talk to me. Tell me about you."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because you have nothing better to do and I honestly can't let you around these idiots."_

"_Why?" she repeated the question._

"_Because they wouldn't treat you right, princess."_

"_Princess?" She snorted, "What kind of lame ass name is that?"_

"_The type you give to someone that's part of the elitist group and hates it." He pointed out, "Tell me, do you feel trapped at the top of your tower, princess?"_

_Clarke rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that night, "Let me guess…minor is psychology?"_

"_Criminal Minds fan." He shrugged, "Answer the question."_

"_No."_

"_No you won't answer the question, or no you aren't trapped?"_

"_No… I won't answer the question." And when the words fell from her mouth, she really looked up at him and met those eyes. They were the same eyes that prompted her to tell all of her dirty laundry to his little sister. The same eyes that she noticed sadness in or happiness in… she wondered how they could be the exact same eyes. "You don't have your father's eyes." It came out without any real thought. _

_He frowned, "I don't have his last name either."_

"_Better off." Clarke said, "You don't want that." _

"_How do you know what I want?"_

"_I don't." She shook her head but continued to look at his eyes. Then, his cheeks where the freckles she'd grow to love scattered his features. She looked at his nose and his hair until her eyes fell on his mouth. They lingered for a second before she returned to his eyes. "I don't know anything about you."_

"_Do you want to?"_

_She was prepared to steel her face again but for some unknown reason her ability was broken. "Yes."_

_XXX_

"Love at first sight?" Stella laughed, "Come on…obviously there's more to that story. You exchange numbers?"

"No…he added me on Facebook." Clarke laughed, "And I accepted his request."

"Ladies and gentlemen we have a love story that will appeal to the current generation!" Stella thundered throughout the house. "First date?"

"You helped me pick out my outfit!" Clarke said, "Remember? I was a complete wreck…I was acting like I'd never been on a date before and freaking out. You were the one that told me if I was going to act insane that I should take a Xanax or something. Then, you said you were joking because you don't condone drug use."

"I just condone occasional drinking…maybe Marge should have been your guardian." Stella said, "You'd still be going to church…"

"I think life would suck if Marge was my guardian."

"Amen."

XXX

_Remember the 2013 Mustang? Yeah, the first date had a lot to do with that stupid ass car. (Note: it did not become a stupid ass car until this date.) Clarke insisted on driving because she considered herself the best driver in the entire world. Bellamy concluded that it was because she needed control in her life. "Psych minor strikes again." She mumbled while she went 15 MPH over the speed limit. Bellamy was closing his eyes every time it looked like she was going to hit someone. "Son of a bitch! Just drive!" Normally, she would contain her vulgar language for the third date but she was on edge and with Bellamy, she just didn't seem to care. _

"_You look really great." Bellamy commented before he shoved his fist in his mouth. Clarke knew she looked great. At least, her cold personality counterpart knew that she looked great. Clarke was still having a hard time putting her trust in people. "So…"_

"_So?" Clarke said, maybe snapped. "What are your plans for the night?"_

"_Dinner. Talking. I might even try to kiss you." Clarke softened at his word momentarily, "Something wrong?"_

"_Nope." _Yes. _Clarke just found out that her mom was going to extend her trip. She wasn't exactly in the date type of mood. "Nothing at all."_

"_Liar."_

"_Psych 101 tell you that or is that speculation counselor?" She asked, smiling a little at her own witty joke. _

_Bellamy exhaled, "We've been doing this for what—two weeks now? I know what it looks like when you're lying."_

"_This is our first date. You're not supposed to know anything about me."_

"_But I do know things about you because you've told me. We talk all the time and it's not like this. You're never this hostile." Clarke sighed, knowing he was right. They'd talked nonstop for the last two weeks ever since the party. She couldn't help but talk to him. He'd message her, she'd message him. He'd call her, she'd call him. He'd invite her over, she'd invite him over—they would meet at the park or something because they weren't going to each other's houses. _

"_My mom isn't coming home for the holidays." Clarke said because she was weak. That's what she told herself anyway—she was just letting Bellamy in like she let Finn in because she was weak. Bellamy was a college boy, he would sleep with her and leave her just as quickly. She knew the game. "It's no big deal."_

"_Obviously it is." Bellamy told her, "Come on…pull over." She did as he said, ending up in the parking lot of a Sticky Fingers. He got out of the car, she got out of the car to meet him. They sat on the hood of that 2013 Mustang and he said the one thing she needed to hear, "I'm not going anywhere, Clarke." _

"_Why not?"_

"_Because I want to be here."_

"_Didn't peg you as a barbeque type of guy." Clarke's hand extended towards the Sticky Finger's sign. _

"_I want to be with you." He elaborated, "Instantly knew it. So…I'm not going anywhere. You're a risk-taker, right Clarke?"_

"_Sometimes."_

"_Risk me…" He was confident in his approach. Just sure…sure of what he felt, not of her response. So when he spoke the words were actually shy of a whisper. _

"_You need to work on your closing arguments, counselor." She told him before her lips collided with his. It didn't take long to be in the hands-in-hair, panting stages of their kiss. It was like once they actually made contact, they couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. Yet, she had to stop because she remembered his grand plan. "Dinner." _

"_Skip it." He said, returning back to her lips. "No…I'm not that guy, I'm not going to skip out on our first date because I'm intoxicated by you."_

"_Intoxicated by me?" She laughed, "You're really smooth."_

_Okay, the night went fairly magical after that. They kissed like love-struck idiots, laughed over dinner and he temporarily made her forget about her mother. It wasn't until she returned to her car that the night brought her back to reality. _

"_Son of a bitch!" She said before she turned back to him. "Someone slashed my tires…perfect. I wonder who it could be…"_

"_You know?"_

_Clarke paused before she introduced the "ex's conversation"—what if he ran away? What if he thought she was a whore? "Raven Reyes… yeah, I sort of accidentally slept with her boyfriend."_

"_Well, that wasn't very nice."_

"_In my defense, I didn't know he had a girlfriend until he broke up with me on Folly beach." She scrunched her nose, "Obviously, Raven hasn't gotten over it yet." _

"_Have you?"_

"_Oh yeah." Clarke said, "Over him…not really over the fact I was lied to but I'm over him." _

"_I could call someone." _

"_No…I've got this." Clarke said, taking out her phone and dialing Stella. "My Aunt Stella is used to these types of situations." _

"_She sounds like an interesting character." He laughed, "I'd love to meet her."_

_XXX_

Stella smiled, "Because I'm the baddest bitch in the entire world." Clarke liked going over her past with Bellamy. It was the light in her dark, the lovely light that made her life entirely perfect in her incredibly screwed up relationship records. She loved him more than anything. She didn't know where should would be without him because if she hadn't met him. If Miller had never suggested that party, she would be steel-facing it forever. She would have called Finn. She would have tried to crawl back to him. It was nothing but fate…

"Hell yeah." Clarke said, bringing the wine glass to her lips. "Should I text him?"

Stella seemed to contemplate the entirety of the situation. "Sex text?"

"I could send a picture at midnight." Clarke laughed, "Wearing whatever's in that bag."

Stella smirked, "I like the way your mind works. If I weren't 25, and completely amazing and in high school I would totally ask you for advice."

"If you were 25 in high school, I would not talk to you." Clarke said, "Ever." Stella laughed incredibly loud and threw the bag at her. "Please tell me it's cute." Clarke opened the bag and her face lit up. "Cheeky panties!" She nearly squealed, "Cheeky from Victoria's Secret! Yes!" The underwear was extremely sexy, strappy on the butt. It revealed way more than it covered and the black color was an instant sex color. The bra on the hand was actually named "Incredible" and it made her breasts look incredible. It was a low-cut beautiful garment that matched the underwear perfectly. "Aunt Stella…"

"There's more."

"A black kimono robe…" Clarke nearly groaned, "This is better than sex!"

Clarke ran into her room and threw on her garments before rubbing lotion across her legs. She, then, decided she needed to perfect her hair and makeup for the picture she was about to send. When she walked out of the room, Stella started clapping. "I'm just going to swallow my pain right now at the sight of how you look compared to my body."

"Can you take the picture?"

"Can I get it in a frame?"

"You're ridiculous." Clarke smirked and looked at the clock. "11:43… that gives us a thousand times to take a picture." They took a picture, looked at it…decided to take another freaking picture. They laughed and laughed at her different poses until they settled on the robe off the shoulder model picture that she knew he would never forget. "I can send it early right?"

"No!" Stella yelled, grabbing her phone from her hands. "You shall not send this picture until midnight!"

"A few minutes…"

"The longest minutes of your life." Stella mused, "So… you think you're building this up too high? You've had sex once."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…you're building this up to be the sexiest night of your life." Stella said, "What if it's not?"

Clarke shook her head, "It's going to be. We haven't had sex in a year…I know he's probably dying. He's going to be perfect. The night's going to be perfect."

Stella nodded, "I'm going to stick around for his response and then I'm going to the doctor's house."

"You said he was handsy…" Clarke said, "You don't have to leave."

"I have to." She said, "I have to give you the adult space that you need."

XXX

_Minutes Later…_

Clarke sent the picture and smiled nervously at Stella. She smirked, "What if he's sleeping?" She moved around the house while she waited for him to respond. It was the longest two minutes of her life. Stella and she were stuck in this nervous gaze. "What if he doesn't want to have sex with me? What if he doesn't want to date me and he's been waiting for a reason-"

'_I don't want no drama, I just want to be your diamond babe, Guaranteed to be a problem, every time I get around you babe…' _

"What did he say?" Stella prompted. "Come on! I live for romantic shit like this!"

"He said he's on his way." Clarke froze. "What if I screw this up?"

Stella poured more wine in her glass, "Take three sips, sit on the middle of the counter and count the lights in the house." She said, "Distraction is key. Then, once he gets here and you see his charming ass you're going to forget about your nerves. It won't matter anymore. You have to breathe, Clarke! Breathe!"

Clarke sucked in a lot of air, "I can do this."

"You can do this!"

Stella looked down at her phone started to ring, "Who is calling me?" She looked down and then her head shot up. "It's your mom."

"Perfect."

"No…Clarke, it's your mom on her cell phone." Stella said, "She's in the country."

"No." Clarke said, "Answer the phone! Found out her position and…dammit! This cannot be happening!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Clarke looked at Stella and said, "I am getting laid tonight. I'm going to have hot, passionate sex with my boyfriend because I am an adult. Abby coming home isn't going to ruin that…right?" She was sure up until she mentioned Abby's name.

Stella glared at Clarke, "Please don't make it look like I've been running a whore house."

Clarke squinted her eyes at her, "You mean in my sexy, sexy lingerie with my sexy, sexy man? No, Aunt Stella—" _Aunt _was usually reserved for the moments in which Clarke had a desperate need for something she really, _really_ wanted. "—this is going to look like a luxury escort service."

She couldn't help but laugh at the horny, beautiful blonde in front of her. "Remember sophomore year when your mom went on that medical thing… I can't remember what the hell it was called, but remember how you and Miller got so drunk, because it was spring break in Charleston, that I had to pick you up and when your mom asked what we had done for that week, you looked her in the eye and told her 'Mom, I've been studying the downfalls of alcoholism'? Yeah, if your ass gets caught tonight—I want you to say something along the lines of 'Mom, I've been studying the highlights of sexual intercourse' because that was the single best moment of parental defeat I've ever seen."

"I barely remember sophomore year." Clarke said, "So…what did she say? Do I have a window?"

"She said, wait let me get my Abby voice going—la, la, la, woohooo, woohoo! I'll be home tomorrow morning by 11:30 because Samuel and I must visit his home to check on it first before I come back to the house."

"That means I have time and I won't get caught. What the hell were you rambling on about?"

"You know your mom." Stella said, "She shows up when she wants to show up. She doesn't have a schedule unless it's in her professional life."

Clarke said, "I'll be careful."

"Speaking of careful…take your pill? Do you think he has protection? Don't get pregnant! Do. Not. Get. Pregnant." Stella laughed, "And if you suddenly don't want this—don't feel pressured."

"I want this." Clarke smiled, "I want to go all the way with him because it's time. It's been the time…" She was still nervous about what was going to happen tonight. She wanted to call off the whole thing because she didn't think she could live up to this sexual standard she'd set. What if it was awkward? What if he talked a lot? What if she moaned too much? What if they weren't compatible? "I love him. I am intoxicatingly attracted to him…his eyes are beautiful and everything that we do will be beautiful."

She heard a car door shut, "Still want this?"

"O-of course." Clarke said, "God why am I so nervous? I'm not a virgin."

"To sex." Stella said, "To making love with someone that you love with everything that you have? I would say that you are as virginal as they come."

Stella grabbed her bag, "I won't overstay. I'm not about to have that awkward conversation with _him _before his pre-sex game."

Clarke started playing with her hair as Stella went out of the backdoor and headed towards the garage where her 2014 Toyota Prius was parked. Stella had money—not as much money as Clarke, but she still had money. Clarke's breathing sounded horrible—it sort of reminded her of sophomore year spring break when she threw up endlessly after way too many shots of cheap tequila. _Please don't throw up…Please don't throw up… _

And then he walked in through the door. His body was covered by a black t-shirt, he was wearing his jeans—she noticed the stitching and decided that he was wearing his favorite jeans. She smiled and he returned her smile. A blush creeping up her skin like never before. "Where's Stella?" He asked as he finally reached her.

"She left." Clarke said, "It's Stella. She treats me like an adult."

"Because you are an adult." His hand trailed across her cheek until his fingers interlaced in the hair at the nape of her neck. "You look so good right now, Clarke."

"V.S. model good?" Clarke stepped away from him and posed, "You thinking I could skip medical school and move onto full time modelling?"

"You can do anything you want." He reassured her, "_Anything you want."_

"Excuse me Mr. Blake, are you coming onto me?" She faked a blush, "I might faint."

Bellamy chuckled, "As much as I like your southern bell routine, babe…I want Clarke Griffin—my lady in front of me right now. My pretty, sexy lady…" His lips met hers in a gentle way before she went for his shirt like an animal. His lips were soft, steady and sweet as they continued to get lost in the erotic daze that fell upon them. Bellamy never bared his chest in front of her unless she accidentally snuck up on him or if they were in no-way-this-is-going-to-result-in-sex situation. She was prepared to look at him in all of his grandeur. She wanted to look at him all night because he was her King.

She stepped back with his shirt balled up in her hands, "Adding this to the stash." She said, bringing it to her nose while she walked backwards into her room. Her bare feet hit the dark wood floors softly as he followed her with intense eyes. He was seducing her with a stare that he'd reserved especially for this moment.

"You're so weird." He was deliberate in every single motion that he made towards her. "But I love you…"

Clarke giggled, "You prepared to prove it."

"I've had a year to prepare myself for this specific moment." He countered with a raised eyebrow. His strong arm was extended towards her, pleading with her to join him in his embrace but she resisted with an unfaltering charm. "Princess…" He cooed with a smirk as she tossed his shirt on her desk. Her hands were first to make skin to skin contact with his chest. Her fingers moving down from his neck to the lower regions of his exposed body. His breath hitched when she pressed her thumbs in the middle of his abs. "Mm…" He closed his eyes, his head momentarily leaning back.

"Kiss me." She said. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her but she moved his head to kiss her neck. "Not on the mouth."

He groaned into her skin while placing open-mouth kisses across her. She pressed his head down into her skin and closed her eyes. His hand pulled her robe from her, tossing it on the ground. Usually, she would have cared about ruining the delicate fabric but she couldn't manage it. His hand fell upon her bottom, giving it a light squeeze before he navigated her to the bed. He removed his own pants, which was a relief to Clarke because up until that moment she hadn't realized the advantage he had when she was already in her underwear.

Her thoughts were a mess.

_Blankets or no?_

_Does he think I'm hot?_

_How turned on is he?_

_Am I more turned on than him?_

_Please god…no foreplay tonight. I seriously just can't wait anymore._

_What if my mom walks in here right now?_

_Dammit—do I put on the blankets or is it going to be too hot?_

Clarke exhaled loudly, her eyebrows coming together. "You okay?" He asked her with the same flustered expression on his face. "It's okay to be nervous, Clarke."

"Are you nervous?"

She frowned, "I don't want to be nervous about this. It'll ruin this."

"No it won't. I'm nervous, too." He said, "I swear to god you're just so…I don't want to screw this up." She pulled him to her, caressing his lips with her own. They moved along to sound of their wild heartbeats, hot lips rubbing against each other—broken breaths escaping their mouths as his body grinded into hers. She wrapped her leg around his waist so he would have a better angle. Her head fell into her pillow with a hard push, "Clarke." He was making her aware of how aroused he was while he continued to give her the contact she craved.

"I'm ready." She insisted, her lips curving slightly at the edges of her mouth. He nodded before reaching behind her back to unclasp her new bra. His lips connected with the sensitive skin surrounded her nipple. He sucked and nibbled before he turned to swirling his tongue around her. She moaned, closing her eyes while entangling her fingers in his hair. He switched to her other breast, his hand massaging the one he abandoned. She was responding in all of the ways he wanted her to react to his touch.

She remembered the exes' conversation again. He claimed to be a real dog once upon a time…not really giving up his ways until they started their relationship. He never divulged the amount of partners he had—Clarke had this fear that it was because the number was outrageously high. She trusted him to be faithful…in fact, she knew he was faithful. He didn't have the time to be unfaithful. School, Clarke and Octavia were his main priorities…and Clarke had the sneaking suspicion that if Bellamy was cheating on her Octavia would inform her immediately. They had that type of relationship.

She did, in fact, pick her up for school every morning in her new car. They had constant jam sessions and celebrated New Music Tuesday. Octavia—next to Miller, was her closest friend. Things had changed a lot since Bellamy and Clarke's first date. Raven and Clarke were no longer at each other's throats—in fact, they enjoyed coffee and lunch every once in a while because Raven turned out to be this amazing person that didn't really have a reason to hate Clarke as much as she thought she had (especially once Finn cheated again with some other unsuspecting girl). And Clarke became friends with some of Octavia's friends, too. Like Jasper who followed Octavia with moon eyes every single second she was around and Monty who was Jasper's best friend. On the other side, Octavia became friends with one of Clarke's good friends as well—William F. Scott. Okay, that was his professional, future President of the United States name. Everyone called him West because he lived on West Street and had a slight obsession with westerns.

Clarke's train of thought crashed into a fiery pit of desire when Bellamy inched down her stomach until he was at the waistband of her underwear. She nodded again which roughly translated to:

"_Take them off now!"_

He moved them down her thighs, pulling them down to her ankles at a tantalizing pace. They never broke eye contact until he had to throw them on the floor. He, once more, took off his own underwear. She remembered all of Stella's helpful sexual advice, "Wow." Fell off of her mouth in a way that made his cheeks turn a pretty little red color. She wasn't lying though but she normally wouldn't have said anything. She would have kept his impeccable length as an inward thought. He crawled over her body until his lips touched her forehead. Her breathing became this desperate cry for him.

She moaned as he slipped himself into her. Her hands reached for his shoulders so she could fake some type of control. This is the moment she'd been pining for, for months. He pushed into her before she squeaked, "Stop." She took in his hurt expression, feeling him pulling out. "No stop…" She moaned, "Stay…I have to adjust."

"Oh." He couldn't hide his smug expression. He pushed back to where he was before her outburst, causing another moan to rip through her. It was soft and quiet but it was motivational. Soon, he started a steady rocking back and forth as he became impatient. She moved her leg to the back of his knee, digging her heel into his skin. She urged him to continue to move within her. "Fuck." It wasn't too often that Bellamy used that type of language. "_Fuck_." He repeated in more of a groan when he started to thrust their hips together.

Her hands moved from his shoulders, to his biceps. Her grip was strong as he glided through her wet center. Bellamy kissed her forehead again as his breathing became ragged. "Oh my god…" Clarke wasn't even trying to follow Stella's laws of sex anymore. She was getting lost in her electrifying lust. His hands caressed her hips and then up to her breasts again. She closed her eyes tighter because she was absolutely dying underneath him. "Bellamy…" She cried because she had to say something. She had to let out all of her pint up emotions.

"_Say my name, baby_." He said into her ear. She didn't know he had it in him to talk like that but sex brought out different sides of people. She was focusing on the tingle within her at his sexy words. She liked being talked dirty to—at least, that's what she came to understand as the night progressed.

Her fingernails found his back at some point. She pressed her entire body up against him. "Bellamy…" Her throaty moan vibrated against his neck. He was pounding hard against her over and over again. She was affected by everything he was doing. Every motion, every way he reacted to her body—it was sending her overboard.

Clarke suddenly felt him fall on her more, "Clarke." He grunted before he released into her. His body tensing moments beforehand, his head falling on her. She was suddenly aware of the sweat tickling her skin and his weight. He kissed her collarbone and the top of her breasts. "Worth the wait…" He murmured.

"Well worth the wait." She said breathlessly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

_Miller looked at Clarke with a thin lipped smile, "My life is falling apart, Clarke. I don't know what I want to do anymore. I don't know where I want to go with my life…" He had a cooper colored beer bottle pressed to his lips. He was laying in the backseat of her car without a shirt on. Clarke found him that way in the middle of a field hiding from the cops. He was going down a dangerous path that she'd been down once before. She realized the situation looked horrible. She wasn't getting any from her boyfriend and the guy she spent more time with was half-naked in her backseat…_

_This is how rumors get started. _

_Clarke was mid-sentence in a text message to Bellamy. They were stuck in the honey-moon phase of their relationship. You know, minus the sex. She sighed heavily, "You have to stop drinking…you have to go back to school."_

"_I can't." He was on the verge of crying—something he did often when he got this way. "I'm a screw up! I've gotten this entire fucking thing wrong!"_

"_Harper is nothing." Clarke insisted, "I don't know why you keep fooling up with her."_

"_Because I love her!" He screamed, "I love her more than you can fucking ever understand. Fuck you, Clarke. Fuck. You. Just because you're single all the fucking time doesn't mean that you have to take it out on me. I love her! I love her and she loves me and she's my first girlfriend. She's the only girl I ever want to be with."_

_She turned around, putting her phone in the cup holder. "Nathan," She said seriously, "You are a son of a bitch! I have half a mind to leave you here but I love you and I give a damn…unlike your little bitch." She cut her eyes at him, "Fuck me? No fuck you. I'm not the one getting drunk every night and crying in the backseat of their best friend's car. Grow the hell up." Then she paused, "Just so you know—I'm seeing someone."_

"_Seeing someone?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Who?" Miller said, "Finn—Clarke…you deserve better than that."_

"_Like you deserve better than Harper." She whispered. "No…I'm seeing Bellamy Blake."_

"_Excuse me while I choke on your lies." Miller took another swig of his warm beer. "Bellamy fucking Blake?"_

"_Bellamy fucking Blake…" She said with a soft smile on her lips. "Finn was my weak point. He was the final straw of this god awful life but I met Bellamy—because of you, I might add. So, maybe one day you'll meet an amazing person that brings you out of this hole."_

_Nathan joined her in the front seat of the car after much struggle. "I want to go to your house." He said, "I can't go home like this."_

"_I figured." Clarke rolled her eyes, "You're actually the first person to know about Bellamy and I besides Octavia and Stella."_

"_So…you hit that yet?"_

"_No." Clarke groaned, "No I have not _hit _that." _

"_Why not?"_

"_Because he has a rule."_

"_Gay…"_

"_God, I hope not. He's so hot, Miller. He is so fucking hot and if I'm some type of beard—I will be so pissed. We're waiting until I turn eighteen. He wants to do it right, apparently. I just want to do it."_

"_Maybe it's a good thing…you and Finn rushed into things."_

_Okay, for the record—Miller was slurring and half of his intelligible conversation was what Clarke was assuming he was saying with his face smashed against the window. Some of his sentences were clear—but some were just ridiculously mascaraed. Either way, she knew her best friend accepted her relationship. _

_She hoped, in that moment, that everyone would accept her new relationship._

_XXX_

Clarke looked over at the clock on her mahogany nightstand and tried to think of a way to tell Bellamy he had to leave before her mom comes home. It was early in the morning but the soft glow of her lamp that she'd completely forgotten about from when she got dressed up for him. She saw the pictures of their relationship across her walls. The pictures that you post on Facebook of your new relationship and then the pictures of their relationship blossoming into something comfortable. There were pictures of him wearing a suit with his hand shoved in his left pocket while she hung off his arm like a cocktail waitress. If her mom were to see her collage, she would be pissed. She didn't have the will to tell him after what they'd just _did _that her mom could ruin this entire thing_. _She was still feeling tingly and blissful. "Babe…" She said after they'd spent 20 minutes in the post-sex position. "I love you."

"I love you too." He chuckled, "I have a test tomorrow and I can't even muster up the will to care." He placed more kisses on her skin. "I don't ever want to leave you." She noted how handsome he looked. He looked like a boy—he looked relaxed and at peace. She loved the way his bare shoulders and naked body looked on top of her.

"Are you proposing forever, counselor?" His eyes met hers and he continued to smile down at her.

He started to genuinely laugh, "Princess…that's all I've ever proposed." He kissed her quickly before he crawled off of her. She watched his backside, biting her fingernail as he walked towards the shower. "You coming or not?"

XXX

Stella and Clarke sat at the counter, sipping on their favorite soda and looking at Clarke's bedroom door. "You think the banner is too much?" Stella joked before the door opened and Bellamy's recently showered bare chest was exposed. Clarke popped the top off the champagne while Stella yelled, "Congratulations on getting it in!"

Bellamy laughed at them with a huge smile across his face, hunching over as if he were going to grab his knees for a second. "I swear to god…you two are the most immature people I know!" He walked over to Clarke, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

"But you love us because we're funny!" Stella declared, raising one of Abby's "fine crystal" glasses up to meet him. "So… Drink up."

"No." Clarke said while reaching a hand to cover the glass from Stella's sloppy pouring. "He has to drive home." She had withdrawn herself from Bellamy's crushing embrace to prevent Stella from pouring him drinks.

Okay, Clarke looked calm and composed during the interaction between Stella, Bellamy and her. But she wasn't. She was freaking out because they just had sex and she didn't know what the next step was with him. He seemed so peaceful, so content and her mind was on fire with all these thoughts that she couldn't handle. She didn't know if she'd done it well—she didn't know if he wanted to go another round. She did know that she left him in the shower after a few steamy kisses and running herbal essence through her hair.

Her awkward stare made Stella nod, "Clarke tell you that Abby is coming home today?" She changed the subject quickly and did a little head tilt to confirm that she understood the post-sex awkwardness. "Yeah…"

"Happy birthday to me…" Clarke sang as she parted completely from Bellamy. She looked at him, a blush covering her skin. "So-"

"I think—no you go ahead Clarke. Sorry baby…"

Clarke attempted to smile but her eyes were bugging out of her head because she remembered what he said when they were in the throes of passion. _'Say my name baby.' Oh my god, Clarke! Get a hold of yourself! Now! This is what you wanted and now you're not acting like yourself. _She threw another look at Stella for backup. Clarke cleared her throat and said, "So…I guess I'm going to have to break the news about us to my mother now." She exhaled, "She's not going to react well."

She was being too honest.

"Tell me how you really feel." His voice said he was joking, his eyes said she was hurting him. "We've been dating for a year. We're in a stable relationship. I love you."

"And I love you too but my mom is a little stuck up." Clarke said, "She doesn't really care about how I feel, she cares about how I look."

Stella started easing out of the room as if she could smell a fight in the air. Bellamy said, "You don't care how this makes you look, do you?"

"Everyone already knows I'm your girlfriend, Bellamy."

"But you don't care how dating me makes you look, do you?" He asked once more, "Is that why you haven't told your mom yet? Because you're ashamed?" Clarke knew that he wasn't referring to physical appearance. If all that mattered was how they looked—damn, they would be a fucking power couple. What mattered was the fact that her mom had status in this community and where his dad had status…Bellamy really didn't. He could wear the nice clothes, he could drive a nice car…but the old ladies with their southern accents would always be looking down on him at events. The lawyers, the event planners, the socialites (like Clarke) would always look down on the Blake siblings because they didn't have Marcus's last name and they were his children out of wedlock. When these people looked at Bellamy they thought of one word: _Mistake. _

"No!" Clarke yelled—she never yelled at him. The tension and the awkwardness suffocated her to the point where she was on edge and nervous. It was like a mixture of emotions that were making her nauseas. _Push it down, _she begged herself. He had to know this wasn't about his social standings in their community though…because Clarke didn't give a damn about that. She didn't care who his mom happened to be and she didn't give a damn what the old ladies with their dumbass southern accents said about him—them. She didn't care. She never cared what _they _thought. But, Clarke's mom…yeah, she cared what Abby thought about her. She'd spent her entire life begging for the attention of her mother…well, ever since she realized that she wasn't getting the attention of her mother. It was around the time that she met Miller, actually. The first step of getting her mother's attention was Miller. The second was the drinking. The third was the minor and occasional drug use. The fourth was trying to get accepted into medical school. "I'm not ashamed of what we have, okay? I just don't need her to come in here and ruin it!"

He stared at her. He wasn't talking and that made her uncomfortable. God dammit—he was a fucking law student, he never shut up during an argument. "I'm going to leave before she gets here. Want me to sneak out the window?"

"You don't have to leave yet."

"_Yet _being the keyword in your statement." Bellamy said, "You're going to have to grow up one day and make your own decisions, Clarke. You can't keep living for someone else."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "You're really not the person I need to be taking that advice from." She realized how deep her words cut but she crossed her arms over her chest instead of apologizing.

And then, there it was. That face. The face that Bellamy recognized as her 'giving up' face or her emotional turmoil face. It was her pain face. "Clarke…" He reached out for her because he wasn't the type to storm out—okay, he was the type to just storm out because he practically made a profession out of it when it came to Kane—but not with Clarke. He did not do that with Clarke. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For fighting with you on your birthday." He said, "I'm sorry that you have to face your mother, too. I know you have a bad history with her. I know she drives you crazy."

"I don't want to fight with you either but—my heads not right." Clarke said, "I want to be happy, I want to dance and party, I want to put you against a wall and try some stuff out and I want to cry in a ball in the middle of my shower because I can't deal."

"I'm so down for number three."

She snorted, "Put that on the list of things that haven't been said in the last year."

"Oh…we've reached a milestone." Bellamy informed her, "I'm going to start making you completely…"

"Completely?"

Bellamy just smirked, kissing her nose. "I'll let you use your artistic imagination for that." He laughed at her dissatisfied face. "I don't want this to be the last time I see you in one, two, three weeks." He was being serious now. "I don't want you to wait until we're four years into our marriage with two kids to tell your mom."

"We aren't going to have two kids in four years." Clarke said with a small laugh, "I'll tell her after I pop out Ethel."

"Ethel?" Bellamy snorted, "Hell no."

"That was my grandmother's name." She lied.

"It's a stupid name." Bellamy told her. "Your grandmother's name was Claudia."

She shrugged, "You listen to me when I talk?"

"Every word." He kissed her nose. "But baby…please just tell your mom."

Clarke knew she was making a difficult promise when she said, "I will." Abby only stayed in town for small amount of time. What if Clarke missed her moment? What if another year passed and she still hadn't told her? Bellamy would leave her.

She didn't want Bellamy to leave her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Bellamy tossed his car keys on the nightstand, his thoughts somewhere else. He was thinking about her skin against his skin…the way she moaned. A grin was plastered on his face while he walked throughout the apartment. He saw the blinking answering machine and walked over to it. He already knew who it was…there was only one person that insisted on calling the home phone: Marcus Kane.

"Son…" Marcus said in his typical aristocratic voice. "I've heard some very disturbing news recently from a friend. I hope to pass on the information to you personally over dinner. Please return my call." _Disturbing news? _Bellamy deleted the message before turning to the couch, throwing his body into it with a heavy groan. He. Hated. Marcus. Kane.

But they had a relationship based off of monetary and educational need. He kept them comfortable as long as Bellamy played along with his game. When he closed his eyes—all he saw was his little vixen behind his eyes. That picture…

God, he was obsessed with that picture.

He wanted to frame that picture.

XXX

There weren't any clubs—there weren't any strippers. There _was _plenty of awkward conversation starters and pictures of Haiti being passed around the oval table at a w_ay too expensive _restaurant. Stella drowned her negative comments with red wine while Clarke sipped idly on a water. "So…Clarke." Samuel, a man of very high status, said as he unbuttoned his suit to sit down. "How is school?"

"Grand." Clarke nodded. She was being a smart ass which triggered a snort from Stella. "Absolutely wonderful."

"Good, good." Samuel didn't know Clarke that well so he took her words as a "well-mannered" response.

"That's great." Abby said, looking over at her daughter with a smile. "I have some great news."

Clarke opened her mouth, "Me too."

"Please don't interrupt." Abby said with a smile, "Samuel and I are getting married. Tomorrow."

And that's how Clarke's dinner went from supposedly being about her birthday, to her mother. She looked desperately over at Stella who frowned deeply at the entire situation. Samuel and her mother were looking at her with wide eyes, waiting for a response. "That's great." Clarke said monotonously, "That's really great."

She furrowed her brows and was about to say something rude when Stella said, "Clarke got accepted into John Hopkins's pre-med program." She smiled widely, "Isn't that amazing?"

"That's very good." Abby replied, "I can't wait to tell the girls."

"The girls?" Stella prompted, "What girls?"

"My bridesmaids… I've been planning this wedding for weeks. I'm excited. I already have the perfect amount of bridesmaids. Do you want to hear more details? Stella…wait until you see the dress I ordered. I had it delivered to the new house." Abby said as if it were obvious, "I talk about you all the time, Clarke." There were too many _details _of Abby's words going through Clarke's head to be able to form any emotion other than anger. Her mother had planned this wedding for weeks yet, this was the first time she was hearing about? And a _new _house? They were moving? Clarke had grown up in her house…she had memories. Her dad designed that house and Abby was talking about moving?

"We're moving?" Clarke swallowed the words like they were poison.

"I'm moving, yes." Abby said, "I've been meaning to discuss it with you. Samuel and I think it's time that we return to the States and work again. But, we want to start fresh… so, happy birthday, Clarke! I was going to wait until later to tell you but we're giving you the house!" She clapped her hands together as if this was the best possible gift she could give someone. "Isn't this amazing? Your own house! Although, I doubt you'll be staying in it much since you're going to John Hopkins but still…"

Clarke cleared her throat, "I never said I was going to John Hopkins. I just got accepted into the program. I'm actually thinking of staying local."

"Local?" Abby laughed, "Very funny. I told you she had a sense of humor, Sam."

It finally dawned on her that Abby said she wanted to start fresh and they were leaving Clarke in Charleston.

Abby didn't want any evidence of her first marriage. She wanted a new life that didn't involve Clarke. Somehow, Clarke couldn't even bring tears to her eyes. She just sat there with her steel-face because she didn't need anyone in this god forsaken restaurant to see her cry over her mother's life choices.

Clarke barely touched her food when it came. She barely did anything but nod along with conversation and steal a few glances at Stella. When everyone was done, Abby and Samuel said "Happy Birthday!" and a "See you tomorrow" before paying and leaving.

Stella looked at Clarke—she really looked at Clarke with her x-ray vision. "Unbelievable." She mumbled, "I don't know if I should congratulate you on the house or cover you with kisses because your mom is an idiot."

Clarke had her phone in her hand. Bellamy hadn't texted her all day…he hadn't even called. She started breathing harder and harder because the world felt like it was crushing her. "I'm going." She said, "Yeah…I'm going somewhere…I'll be home soon."

Stella said something but Clarke didn't hear her. She was pushing herself out of the door and into her 2015 Mustang Convertible, turning the car on and bolting out of the parking lot as if she were late for a NASCAR race. That's when the tears came. Her eyes fell to the phone in her hand once more. She blurrily dialed Bellamy's number listening to his ringback tone impatiently, "Hey…" He answered, sounding completely tired as if he'd been sleeping all day.

"I need you." She said, "Really, really bad."

"Sweetheart, are you okay?"

"Can you just meet me somewhere?"

"Anywhere." He said, "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"God…I don't know. What's close to _Bereti _and your apartment?" She groaned, no longer crying. It was weird how his voice had that effect on her. "I don't want to go home…of course, no one is actually home but I still don't want to go there. I just want to be with you."

"Target?"

"Target." She agreed.

XXX

Clarke's hand reached up to touch to ceiling of her car as she moaned loudly, "Bell..a..my!" She cried into his skin as he thrust up into her in the passenger seat of her car. Her dress was pushed up so high that it exposed her bra but she couldn't give a damn about the dress. She only wanted him. She only needed him.

The entire experience could be described as uncomfortable, needy and _hot. _Hot didn't just refer to the heat fogging up her windows, either. One of her hands gripped his shoulder, her nails digging into his sweaty skin every time she pressed down on him, grinding her hips back and forth. He grunted repeatedly, moving their bodies forward as he readjusted himself underneath her. "Fuck me." He groaned when she licked the side of his neck. Her body rocked back and forth faster and faster with his continuous groaning.

She felt him start to twitch in her as he placed his forehead on her skin. "So…as I was saying, you're my date tomorrow to my mother's wedding." She kissed down his skin, reaching for his shirt to return it to him. She wasn't going to be weird about this shirt…

XXX

Bellamy followed Clarke's crazy ass driving over to her house with a satisfied smirk on his face. Despite her breakdown over her mother, Clarke was hot and ready for him. Extremely ready for round two of many. She'd ridden him. She'd moaned his name. He realized that he was swerving a little at the thought of what they'd just done in the Target parking lot.

She pulled into her driveway smoothly, turning off her car and stepping out in that dress. The dress she'd practically had over her head 20 minutes ago. Clarke winked at him as she hit the lock button on her car. She held up three fingers at him that caused him to throw his head back and open his mouth. She started pulling her dress over her head in her driveway and he hurriedly turned off his car and got out of it. He nearly ran to her, pulling her to his arms.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he stumbled into the house. They ran straight into Stella. Clarke looked at her Aunt, momentarily mortified. Clarke could discuss her sex life openly—but getting caught doing it? No. Just no… "I can't unsee this." Stella said, "Where is your dress—my dress, Clarke. Where is my dress?"

"In the driveway." Clarke said, wide-eyed. "It's a little wrinkled."

"How?" Stella said, "Did you toss it like trash when you threw it off? Crumble it up and step on it?"

"Nope." Clarke said, "It's just a little wrinkled from something else."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Clarke fell asleep on the couch while "A Little Bit of Heaven" played in the background. Bellamy hated to love that movie. It was about a woman who finds out she has cancer and it has to be one of the funniest saddest movies he'd ever seen. It was also Clarke's favorite movie in the entire world. "I love you, Clarke." Bellamy whispered into her hair before lifting himself—as well as Clarke—up from the couch and carrying her to her bedroom. She shuffled in his arms, one eye peering open to look at him. She rolled her eyes playfully and crossed her arms.

"Your arms look so amazing when you're carrying me." She said sleepily. "I love your arms almost as much as I love you." Clarke's hands played with his shirt. "I'm sorry Stella cock-blocked."

"It's not about the sex." He said earnestly, "It really doesn't bother me that much."

He placed her on her bed and pulled his shirt over his head. She looked at him with fiery eyes. She leaned up slowly, crossing her legs at the ankles before doing the same with her pajama shirt. He noticed that when she went to "put some fucking clothes on" (that didn't belong to Stella), she'd also changed her underwear.

Instead of the simple black set that she was wearing earlier, she was wearing something lacy…something that made him want to do things he'd never done to her before. Her pretty little hand traced the strap on her shoulder, tempting him. He tilted his head to the side to watch her. She smirked at his reaction—more so at the reaction his pants seemed to be having at his desire for her. Her hand continued down to the curve of her breast, to the center of her bra and then to the little metal piece he hadn't seen until the moment she unhooked it and the straps fell down her arms to lay behind her. He cleared his throat, "You are the most seductive person I've ever met in my life."

She moved back down on her back, her hands encouraging him to follow her. He crawled slowly over her skin, her hand reaching for his jaw while his hand moved to spread her legs apart. She willingly parted, letting him settle between her. Her hot breath mingled with his before she pushed their lips together. He felt a breath escape her lips as his hand brushed between her thighs. "Am I everything you've ever…you know?" She breathed differently when they broke apart. He looked down at her and brushed the blonde hair from her forehead.

"You know the answer to that." He let his lips fall upon the sensitive skin behind her ear. His hand gripped her knee, pushing her leg down as he played with the draw string on her pajama shorts. "Baby…" He purred when her hand swept against his throbbing length underneath the intolerable amount of jean material. She unbuttoned his pants with ease, shoving her hand down his pants with a smirk on her lips. He groaned while her hand massaged him gingerly. "Don't be shy now, princess…" He said huskily.

"Take your pants off." She demanded, shoving at his chest so he would roll off her momentarily. She stood up, slipping the thin material of her striped shorts down her legs. He got off her bed, taking his pants off faster than she had. He tossed them over on her desk chair and looked at her. He was slightly nervous… she was something else—something he didn't understand or ever wanted to understand. She popped the elastic on her underwear as she moved down to take them off as well. She bent over and slipped them down her legs until they were at her feet. She kicked them off her feet. "I'm completely naked." She stated obviously, "Fuck me."

He stuttered, "W-what?"

She had the upper-hand. "Fuck me." She repeated, her eyes narrowing at the sight of him. He was _hot. _How did she get so lucky? "Now." He smirked when she stomped her foot demandingly. He pulled off his boxers, tossing them in the direction of his pants—not really making it there. He practically pushed her on her back, moving down her body until his breath tickled her heat. "What are you doing?"

"You're not the only one that knows how to play games, honey." He declared, grabbing her calf and putting her leg over his shoulder before connecting his mouth with the small bundle of nerves. She exhaled loudly, her head sinking back into her pillow. He huff escaped his lips when she dug a heel into his back. "Ow, Clarke—come on. You can't have all the fun."

"But I want to have all the fun." She said, "You aren't allowed to tease me."

She moaned when he returned to the spot he'd recently been to and she moaned again when he grazed his teeth across the sensitive part of her skin. He kissed at her skin, his breath tickling her. He sucked for a moment but then came up, smirking at her. "You're so wet, baby." She closed her eyes as a feeble attempt to mask how much his words affected her. He moved up, licking her neck while simultaneously slipping himself into her.

She bucked up into him the second she adjusted. "Damn…" She said breathlessly while he got into a rhythm of thrusting deep inside of her and pulling out to do it over and over again. "Bellamy, baby…son of a bitch…oh my god." Her thoughts were pouring out of her mouth with each thrust. His face was red hot because she had this way of building up his ability to give her pleasure. She continued to say things he would remember for the rest of his life. "Bell…damn…_fuck me_…"

He couldn't help but smile a little at her. "You're going to wake up Stella." He groaned when she wrapped her leg around him in response, giving him a different angle. "Okay…I get it." He reached a hand down to her clit, rubbing it rapidly. He felt her tense, her eyes fluttering underneath closed eyelids…her mouth forming into a perfect _O _before she moaned extremely loud. He couldn't pretend that her orgasm hadn't sent him over the edge. He liked—no, loved—how her face was lost in bliss. He groaned, moving his arm to the side of her head while he came.

"Damn." She said, "Honey…that was amazing. You think we're like a fine wine? We get better in time?"

"Oh, yeah." Bellamy agreed, moving over to the side of her. "It's me and you so of course we get better with time." She was still tingling from her orgasm. "I tell you about dinner with Marcus?"

"No." She said, "I was crying on you so…"

"Right." He nodded, "He is convinced that you aren't good for my image."

"If he knew about how amazing you looked right now…" Clarke said, "He'd have a different point of view." She was on her side, her breasts against his arm. "Do you—?"

"No." Bellamy shook his head, "Clarke, why so insecure today baby? You know I love you…you know I love you more than anything. Marcus Kane can go fuck himself." He said, "If he wasn't taking care of Octavia and paying for our apartment…I wouldn't…you know, I wouldn't let him say things like that."

She sighed, "I wish you could stay with me."

"I know…sometimes I wish I could stay with you, too. But with your mom…"

"She's moving, Bell." Clarke said, "I forgot to tell you before we got carried away…she's signing the house over to me. She's moving and leaving me here because she wants to start new." She pushed into him more. "Maybe one day we can…you know…live here together."

He was thinking about it. "It'd be nice."

"I'm not talking about right now." Clarke said, "Later, Bellamy…much, much, much later."

"It's not that I don't want to…I do but it'd make things complicated."

Clarke internally frowned. "You're right."

**Review please! What's next? I'm open to suggestions as well as other writing prompts! Thanks for reading and taking your time to review, favorite, or follow! It means a lot! **

**-Brooke. **


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Clarke woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. She untangled herself from Bellamy and walked out of the room to take the call. "Hello?" She said, pulling the phone away from her ear to see who it was. "Nathan?"

"…Clarke I really screwed up." He slurred, "Can you come get me?" A million images flashed before Clarke's eyes. What if he hurt someone? Oh, god what if he hurt himself… She had to—she had to do something.

"Where are you?" She asked, darting back into her room to put on some clothes. She didn't catch his first response which scared her. How drunk was he? "Speak up!" She nearly yelled, looking up at Bellamy to see if she'd woken him up. She had. She looked away from him and buttoned her jeans before reaching for Bellamy's hoodie. "Hey, Nathan! Talk to me—where are you?"

"Azalea Park." He said—at least, that's what she thought he said.

"Summerville? Really?" Clarke groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. "Stay there. Don't get in your car. Don't do anything. I'll be there soon." She waited for a response, "Okay?"

"Yeah…" Clarke hung up and looked at Bellamy with so much fear that he shot up out of bed and started dressing himself. She tossed him his shirt and told him to meet her in the car. She grabbed her keys and started walking quickly to her car. She wasn't wearing shoes, which she knew was breaking the law, but she didn't care. She had to get to her best friend. Bellamy wasn't far behind her. He walked out the house, throwing his shirt over his body. She couldn't help but think how amazing he looked briefly.

Once he was in the passenger seat, she started driving. It was strange how well-mannered her driving was when she was stressed. All she could think about was how much she was worried for him. What had he done? What would this mean for him? How illegal were things? Bellamy placed a reassuring hand on her knee. She wanted to cry.

She wanted to breakdown again.

Because this was fucking scary and she shouldn't have to deal with things like this.

She parallel parked near Miller's car, noticing he wasn't anywhere near it and started her search through one of the most beautiful local places she'd ever seen. She used her phone as a flashlight, running over one of the old bridges with her bare feet before hitting the sidewalk trail. "Nathan!" She called, "Come on…where are you?" Bellamy was behind her but she wasn't paying much attention to his presence. Finally, she caught the glint of a bottle and the extended legs of her friend. "Oh, Miller…" Clarke said sadly, crouching before him. "Come on…let's get you home."

"She broke up with me." Miller said, "Clarke…I did something stupid. I did something so stupid."

Clarke knew asking what he did would only complicate the situation. She looked over at Bellamy to indicate that she needed help lifting up her intoxicated friend. Bellamy put the guy's arm around his shoulder, lifting him up to his feet before letting him go. Miller stumbled when they retreated back over to the bridge to Clarke's car. "Where are your keys?" She asked Miller and he handed them to her. Clarke passed them on to Bellamy, who nodded because he understood what she meant. She pushed Miller into the backseat, telling him to lay down and not throw up on her interior.

She kissed Bellamy quickly before getting in her car. "Be careful." He told her when she started to engine. Miller didn't listen to her. He leaned up to talk to her from the backseat.

"I got out of control." He slurred, eyes squinting. "And I screwed the entire thing up with Harper."

"How?"

"I told her the truth, Clarke…" Miller said as if it were obvious, "I told her that I was in love with someone else."

"Who could you possibly be in love with?" Clarke snorted, "Harper has been the girl you've been chasing after for years. She's a bitch but she's your girl. You two fight, you get back together—it's always been that way."

Miller disregarded what she was saying, "I got in a fight with her brother. He's probably going to press charges…I broke his nose."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "They call the cops?"

"Of course." He said, "They always call the cops."

Clarke hated the silence in the car so she hit the volume button so her music would come over. "The Morning" by The Weeknd started playing. Clarke had a miniature obsession with The Weeknd. It was his voice…god. "What are you going to do?"

"My dad won't let anything happen." He said surely, "I am in love with someone else, Clarke."

"Sure, you are." Clarke dismissed him again. "Just try to sleep it off buddy…"

'…_Look at all that money, the money is the motive/All that money, the money she be folding/Girl put in work, girl girl put in work/ Girl put in work, girl girl put in work…' _

The song changed and she started to feel her hellish day crashing upon her. Between her mother's impending wedding and Miller's drunkenness…it wasn't her ideal birthday. The only thing—only person—that made it tolerable was Bellamy. Drake's "Hold On, We're Going Home" made her smile when it came through her speakers. She sang along before making a turn onto the interstate. She hated Miller for being so irresponsible. Who goes on the INTERSTATE wasted?

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel as she looked in the rearview mirror at her friend. He wasn't asleep but he was subdued. There was no way in hell she was taking him home—his dad would kill him. "Often" by The Weeknd started playing. It was one of her _favorite _songs apart from the Nicki Minaj Pinkprint album.

Hip-Hop, Rap and R&B music taught her how to channel her anger, her rejection and sometimes her desire. This was one of those desire songs. _'Ooh, the sun's risin' up/The night's almost up/ The night's almost done/But I see your eyes/You wanna go again/Girl, I'll go again/Girl, I'll go again/She asked me if I do this every day, I said often/Asked how many times she rode the wave, not so often/Bitches down to do it either way, often/Baby I can make that pussy rain, often/ Often, often, girl I do this often'_

The lights started blurring before her eyes as she yawned. She was tired… having sex three times in a day was exhausting—the entire day was exhausting (physically and emotionally). She swerved slightly, correcting herself and looking in the rearview mirror to see if she could see Bellamy through Miller's windows.

She couldn't.

She sighed and returned back to listening to her music. She put her blinker on and exited the interstate, driving pass the familiar landmarks. Her eyes were starting to droop by the time she reached the turn off to her house. Once she was in her driveway—alone, because Bellamy must have gotten held up at the last red light—she tried to help Miller out of the car. "It's you." He mumbled under his alcohol soaked breath. "I love you."

"What?" She asked before Miller's lips were crushing into hers forcefully. She pushed him off of her, looking at him with a shocked and angry expression. The lights of Miller's car rained on them but she maintained eye-contact, her breathing ragged as she tried to keep her anger under control. She had a finger pressed into his chest. "Never." She said through her teeth, "Do that again." Miller didn't listen. He was a fool because Bellamy's hand connected with his shoulder, tossing him had against Clarke's car. "Don't hurt him! He wants you to hurt him!" Clarke pleaded with Bellamy.

"Don't hurt him, Clarke? He's trying to force himself on you!" Bellamy was outraged—betrayed, even because Miller was a friend to him as well. Hell, Miller was the reason he met Clarke when he met Clarke. And here the drunk bastard stood, trying to make a move on his girlfriend.

"Let it go." Clarke said harshly, "Just let it go. Nathan…you need to sleep it off." She pointed towards the door to her house, "Just go."

"No. I've waited too long to tell you how I feel! I broke up with Harper for you! Come on!" He was belligerent. "I'm in love with you, Clarke…that means something."

"It means something to _you!" _She felt the tears accompanied by her ending friendship with Miller surface in her eyes. "It means something to _you! _I'm not in love with you…I've never been in love with you." Her hands grabbed his hands because she was scared he was going to hit something or someone and she didn't need that. "I'm sorry…I love Bellamy, Nathan…I love Bellamy and you know that…you were the first to know that and I can't believe _this." _

"Clarke…" Nathan was crying before her, "I told you I've screwed everything up."

"You need to sleep it off." She said, moving him towards her house with Bellamy behind them. She directed him towards a guest bedroom but didn't go inside. "Bellamy…"

"You don't have to explain." Bellamy said, "You didn't do anything wrong. I just…"

"I know." Clarke felt Bellamy's embrace before she felt his arms around her. "He's my best friend…" She sniffled, "How am I supposed to deal with all of this without my best friend?" Bellamy didn't take it personally because he understood the bond between Nathan and Clarke. Friends for years…screwed up home lives…

But then again, Bellamy recognized that _his_ bond with Clarke was similar. The reason they were so compatible was their different backgrounds, but similar stories. Nathan'd been going down the same road for the longest time…it all led to one point—or two, actually. He was either going to be arrested or he was going to die. Either way, Clarke was going to get hurt. "Clarke…I love you so fucking much but there are some battles you can't win even when I want you to." He squeezed her tightly, "I'm not jealous of Miller." He was confident in this statement, "So that's not why I'm asking you to let him go…I'm not demanding it either. I'm not going to tell you that you can't be his friend but please, Clarke…" His eyes met hers intensely, "Please let him go." He continued to talk to her, "He's going to kill himself with the drinking—with the drugs. He's going to drag you down with him. But it's your _choice._"

"I know what I have to do." She cried, "But I don't want to…I promised him I would never leave him. I promised him, Bell but I can't be with him if things are going to be complicated. He kissed me tonight because he was drunk—what happens when he's snorting cocaine or something? I'm not an idiot—I know where this goes."

"No one said you were an idiot."

She broke away from him, "I don't want to let him go."

"Then don't…baby, it's your choice."

"Can I sleep on it?"

"Of course."

"Are you still going to stay with me?"

"Always."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Clarke and Bellamy gripped hands tightly as they walked in through the double doors of a church they'd never attended in their lives. Their minds were two different places…or a thousand different places—none of which were this church or this wedding.

Her mind was drifting towards the events of the night before.

His mind was on the fact that his father wanted him to break up with Clarke.

Her mind was distracted by the way his touch sent chills up her spine this morning.

His mind contemplated taking her up on the offer to move in.

Either way, they were blocking out the stares of those who were unaware of the relationship they shared. The younger individuals accompanied by their parents knew about Bellamy and Clarke. The older people that spent more time in the less expensive dining establishments and recreational areas knew about Bellamy and Clarke. It was the important people who claimed to _know everything _that had no clue about Bellamy and Clarke (mostly because Marcus demanded a discreet relationship.)

"I love you." Bellamy said, snapping Clarke out of her thoughts as they drifted around the lobby area. She smiled before her face fell. "What's wrong, princess?"

"I don't exist in this world, Bellamy." She said. Most would find her melodramatic but he understood each word. Apart from those interested in their relationship…no one looked at the daughter-of-the-bride. No one congratulated her. No one shook her hand. No one smiled and asked how she liked Samuel.

She didn't exist in their eyes.

"But you own mine." Bellamy told her, his hand breaking from her grip to rub her lower back reassuringly. "These people are irrelevant. They don't define who you are. Their opinions don't matter."

She sighed heavily, "You're right…I forget sometimes that I'm not who I used to be."

"And for good reason." He said, "Where do you want to sit?"

"We shall sit in the front row." Clarke said, "I want her to see me before she pushes me out of her life. I want her to look me in the eye and _see _me."

He nodded, "Understood." His hand guided her to the front row of the church where they took their seats. Her small body pressed against the end of the pew for support, her other side leaning on Bellamy. She had to sit up straight—she had to be strong throughout this. "You okay?"

"I don't know."

"At least you're honest." He said, "I'm honored to be your date, Clarke. I know this isn't easy for you…I know you were avoiding this with your mom and I want you to know that it means a lot."

Her hand touched his cheek, "This isn't hard for me, Bellamy. I thought it would be…but knowing you have my back in a situation like this makes it easier." He smiled at her words. "Plus, I can finally tell all these cougar bitches that they can back off."

"We're in a church." He scolded her jokingly, "Using that kind of language…"

"Well I guess you'll just have to punish me later."

"Oh, darling…I plan on it." He winked.

Clarke was still lacking attention—attention to her porcelain skin underneath the royal blue chiffon dress tight against her. They should be paying attention to her stormy blue eyes…the way Bellamy was soaking in her _everything. _He didn't know what was wrong with him but once he got a taste of _Clarke _he just wanted more and more and more…god, and more. Because she was _hot. _Not just in the physical sense because it wasn't just how she looked—it was that mouth, those words that she said to get under his skin—literally, because if she kept going she'd always end up _under _his skin.

For instance, if "I think we have a shoe-in for scandalous, slutty wedding sex" doesn't accurately explain his situation—nothing could. He looked over at her with a pained, seductive expression. He was not having sex with her in a church. "What?"

"Princess I cannot have sex with you in a church."

"Baby, are you blushing?" She giggled, a hand easing towards his thigh. He pushed it off and looked at her with a devilish grin. "Okay…I understand." The turn of her lips made him swallow the hard lump in his throat. She leaned closer to him, "But your ass is mine at the reception."

He laughed, maybe a little too hard at her statement because he wasn't going to display his true emotion—lust. A red hot lust that could make The Virgin Mary blush…even if she heard a million confessions a day. Bellamy's mind was…well, equivalent to a fifteen year old boy's mind right now with the twang of an intelligent man's words. His hands ached to push up the knee-length chiffon material until it could be tucked underneath her bra—his hands craved to get lost in her curves, exploring her figure and memorizing the way he could bring her pleasure. "Why did we sit in the front row again?" He complained in a breathy groan, straightening from a slouched position. Clarke reached over and grabbed his hand but it was weird…she was tickling his hand? Her fingers playing with his, running her fingertips between the spaces of his fingers. She then brought their hands to his knee, hers turning over under his. As she started to move up his leg, his hand followed. He momentarily closed his eyes before the music started.

She cleared her throat, affected by her own temptress moves. She crossed her legs over her thighs rather than her ankles. "I saw a coat closet." She whispered, "We could skip this whole thing…she wouldn't notice I was gone."

He put space between them—more because he needed it. "You're exhilarating…" He muttered, looking behind him. "I want to have you right now."

"Right now?" She looked as if she were going to stand up but he put his hand on her legs. "Here?" She looked around—it was her turn to blush.

"I don't always get what I want." His voice was low.

"But you can."


End file.
